The Dangers of Summer
by CidOtaku
Summary: Terry&Kevin Mask yaoi! Chapter 2 up! A request fanfic, and will be several chapters. Takes place sometime after Ikkiman Chojin Crown Tournament...please read and review! Oh, I know, it's a bad title..
1. Why Metal Masks Can Be Dangerous

The Dangers of Summer

Chapter 1: Why Metal Masks Can Be Dangerous

Ultimate Muscle

CidOtaku

A/N: This is going to be my first attempt at writing a multi-chapter fanfiction, beside my other one, "You Know You're Obsessed When". I said I wasn't going to write anymore yaoi, but this story was requested, so I decided I should, and it would be a good time to see how a multi-chapter story would work out. The pairing is also very interesting to me. The pairing requested was Kevin/Terry. I hope 'Kevin Mask's No. 1 Fan' likes it…^_^; If you don't like yaoi, don't read. And I know that I shouldn't use this space for advertising, but you can check out my other fanfics if you like Ultimate Muscle, and see my 'favorite stories' for other excellent stories! ^_^ Please read and review!

QUICK THNGY: I have no idea when this would take place in the story…maybe after the Ikkiman Chojin Crown Tournament? 

            It was a hot summer day, and most people were inside, sitting up against the refrigerator, or standing near the air conditioner vent, seeking any form of coolness they could get. Any people outside were out for the false hope of a cool breeze, or swimming. At a small local swimming pool, three men were changing into their swim trunks.

"Can ya tell me again, why we're here, Kid? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that I said I didn't want to go." Terry Kenyon grumbled, glaring at Kid Muscle.

            "Yeah, I think he said it about…" Dik Dik counted quickly on his fingers. "Five times _before_ we left, three times _during_ the ride here, and…" Another count of fingers. "Four or five times the 10 minutes we've been here. I might have missed a few when I went to the vending machine--" He was quickly cut off by a smack to the head.

            "Jeez, ya don't hafta count." Terry mumbled.

"Well, Terry, I have several good reasons why we're here." Kid grinned happily. "One, it's over 100 degrees outside, and swimming is one of the only things I want to do right now. Unless, you'd rather train out there with Meat, back at my place…" Kid grimaced as he continued. "Two, there's food. Three, there's TONS of cute babes out there, wearing nearly NOTHING," Kid Muscle was practically drooling at this point. "And, this is one of the least known, smallest swimming places around. Anywhere else, and there's be tons of people flocking us, blocking our way to the water, and we'd never get to swim. So," Kid concluded, "_that's_ why we're here."

"Hmm…I thought you liked the fans, Kid? Or are you just going to get jealous, because me, Terry, Checkmate, and Wally have more fans then you?" Dik Dik grinned.

"Hey!" Kid whined. "I just don't feel like messing with them right now, that's all! I mean, do _you_ want to mess with fangirls asking if they can bear your children at scorching temperatures? Things might get pretty scary…remember that one fangirl that was stalking Jeager?" All three men shuddered. "Exactly." Kid finished. "So come on! This changing room is hot, and it smells funny."

"Ya sure that just ain't you?" Terry snickered.

"Hey!" Kid whined.

At the pool, the three men spotted Checkmate and Wally. Wally had practically jumped in as soon as they had reached the pool. He wasn't used to temperatures so hot back at home, and his fur wasn't helping matters. Checkmate had declined swimming at first; but once stepping outside, had thought better of it, and was floating on his back peacefully, diving every now and then to stop his chest from burning. 

Terry sighed, and deciding that he might as well enjoy the water, dived in.

            On the other side of the pool, two men were sitting under an umbrella in beach chairs with an ice cube on each of their stomachs, trying to see whose would melt the fastest. 

            "Care to tell me _again_ why we're here, Flash, and why you won't let me wear my helmet?" A man with shoulder-length hair asked, carefully turning his head towards his companion, as not to jar the ice cube. "I feel…naked. Not counting the fact that I'm only wearing trunks." The young British man grumbled.

            "Well, comrade--er, Kevin, I have several reasons that I think you'll find logical." The other man said, without turning his head, staring intently at his ice cube. "One, it's over 100 degrees. Staying inside would only make both of us irritable, and I felt like relaxing. Two, there's food; and as you and I both know, neither of us can cook, save instant noodles, and eggs. Three, this is one of the smallest, least known swimming places near here. If we were to go to one of the bigger ones, there is sure to be media and fans all around, and I know you hate that. And lastly, we're _both_ not wearing our helmets, because wearing a heavy metal helmet outside in these temperatures is suicidal, and this way, there's less of a chance to be spotted and recognized." Flash finished, still staring at his ice cube, which was dripping over the side of his stomach.

            Kevin grumbled, knowing Flash was right. Flash was usually right. He had been Kevin's coach for sometime, and the two had formed a friendship. Flash was experienced, and had helped Kevin fight and train better than anybody else he knew. "If it's too hot to wear a helmet during the summer, then why do you often make me take off the helmet in the winter?" Kevin asked.

            "Don't you remember when you froze your tongue onto the metal while talking?" Flash questioned, as Kevin looked around quickly, making sure nobody else heard. "Oh, and I win." Flash stated, pointing to the puddle that was left of his ice cube. Kevin sulked, and sunk lower into his chair.

A/N: Hello folks! Sorry, but you'll have to wait 'til next chapter to start the Terry/Kevin part! ^_^; Don't hurt me! I hope the characters aren't too OOC…


	2. The Case of the Missing Magazine

The Dangers of Summer

Chapter 2: Case of the Missing Magazine

Ultimate Muscle fanfiction by CidOtaku

A/N: Hello all! Glad to see people enjoyed my first chapter! Some wanted to have a visual description of Kevin without his mask, or at least a picture or sommat. Well, I haven't drawn it, so I'll just describe him in this chapter. I _have_ drawn Kevin with his mask, and I learned one thing. That his mask is a pain in the ass to draw. Yay me? I learnded. I own nothing. Except a crumpled up foil chocolate wrapper…-__- Yep. I apologize at the lack of length this chapter has, I just wanted to put up as much of this story as I could, before my computer a.k.a. "$hit-box" dies again. _

            The sun blazed down in the middle of the sky, indicating that it was around noon. A few more people were in the pool, but not enough to crowd the pool. Kevin opened his eyes. He didn't know he had dozed off in the first place, and rubbed his eyes. Lord Flash had been asleep also, and was still off in Dreamland. Kevin yawned, stretched, and much to his dismay heard many simultaneous squeals of what seemed like fangirls. He quickly looked around, ready to throw Flash over his shoulder and run down the street in swim trunks if needed, but was relieved to see the attention was directed elsewhere.

            A young man was walking over to the diving board, still dripping from his last dive. Some of his long blonde hair was sticking up a bit still, even though the laws of gravity should have dampened his bangs to his head. He had a "K" tattooed on his forehead, and two stars on each shoulder. Kevin recognized the man as Terry Kenyon, wrestler son of Terryman, instantly. Terry seemed to be the current object of attention, as he continued to walk, trying to ignore the people around him. His swim trunks were sticking to his body, much to the delight of the women hanging around the edges of the pool, and as Kevin watched, he noticed a few guys were staring as well.

            Kevin was instantly terrified. He cursed his flushing cheeks and tried to think of anything else than the half-dressed man walking nearer and nearer to him. Would Terry recognize him, even without his mask? Would he remember the golden-brown of his hair that strayed from his helmet to mid-chest? Would he notice that though his eyes weren't the yellow that they seemed to be while wearing the mask, that they were still a piercing golden-brown? Would Terry instantly notice the large amount of muscles that only a wrestler or obsessive bodybuilder could have? If he asked Kevin a question, would he identify the British accent? Would the Texan exclaim his true identity for all to know? If so, he knew he would never have a moment's peace. He already had way too many fans than was healthy for a Chojin, and he was instantly reminded of Jeager's stalker. He shuddered.

            Kevin looked around for the magazine Flash had brought with him, in hopes of hiding his face, but was again congratulated with the sadistic humor of Fate. Lord Flash must have been reading it before he fell asleep, and dropped it on the concrete below him. Which normally wouldn't have been a problem, but the magazine was now a dripping heap of mush that _might_ have once been a magazine if it hadn't been dropped in a large seeping puddle of pool water. Kevin highly doubted that his day could get any worse.

            Kevin cursed under his breath, and looked up at the nearing Texan. And then quickly cursed again as they made eye contact. He was wrong. It was worse.

            As Terry neared the diving board, he could have sworn he had heard a voice mutter, "Shit." He looked at two beach chairs nearest him, and saw a young man with longish dirty-blonde hair. He was red in the face, and as soon as he saw Terry looking at him muttered, "Crap."

            Terry's eyes widened, and he slowly asked, "_What_…did ya jus' call me?" 

The man quickly turned even more red, and exclaimed, "I didn't call you anything! I was…uh, noticing my magazine. Or what's left of it…" The man looked pointedly at a mound of pulp between his and another sleeping man's beach chair.

Terry blinked at the "magazine". He walked over and squatted down near the pulp. Poking at it, he asked skeptically, "Ya _sure_ this was a…" He poked the pulp a little harder. "…_magazine_?" He grimaced as his finger left a soggy imprint.

"Well, it _was_." The man on the chair said, frowning. He was staring determinedly at what was left over from the magazine, as if he didn't want to look into Terry's face.

"Don't ya wanna go swimmin'? It's gotta be over 100 degrees." Terry asked, remembering that Kid Muscle had used the same remark to get him to go into the water. Terry wasn't sure why, but he was interested in the young man in front of him. The other man looked at Terry. Terry noticed that his eyes were a golden-brown, an unusual color for most eyes. His hair was long, and he had some bangs, which were pushed away from his eyes, save for several stubborn strands. He was well muscled, and wore some black swimming trunks.

Terry's face flushed a bit as he noticed that he was glancing at the other man's trunks, and looked back into his face. "What's yer name?" He asked.

            _"What's yer name?"_

Kevin cursed mentally. He cursed his father or mother, whoever it was that had named him, and instantly wished that he had a more common name. If he were named Bob; for example, then if he told Terry his name, the young Texan wouldn't question it in an instant. But with the British accent, the long hair, the muscles…if he said his real name, Terry would put two and two together, and realize to whom he was speaking to. 'Bob Mask' was sounding excellent right now.

"So, what's yer name?" Terry asked again, a bit louder this time, bringing Kevin out of his thoughts.

"…" Kevin stared at his beach chair with such intensity it was a wonder it didn't burn a hole straight through.

"Hmmm?" Terry asked, frowning.

Just then, there was a loud yawn, and a drowsy voice asked, "Comrade--er, Kevin? Where is my magazine?" Flash looked at Kevin who was staring daggers at him, to the confused Texan, whom he recognized as the wrestler Terry Kenyon, to a pile of some unknown substance that he feared was his magazine. Suddenly, it made some sense.


End file.
